The irony of age. Or, the importance of memories.

When I was a younger man, I worked in the long term care industry, first as a 16 year old dishwasher in a nursing home, then an orderly, and later, after college, as an administrator. Later I went to work for a hospital where I was the long term care administrator. I spent all of my young professional life perpetually surrounded by 80 year olds, who were losing their memories and running out of time.

Then, one day, I switched and became a college professor. So, as an older man I am now surrounded by 20 year olds, who have yet to make memories and seemingly have plenty of time.

What a contrast in role and age reversal. But one thing I’ve learned with both groups, memories are what life is made of. Make as many good ones as you can and hang on to them for as long as you can.